


and all I see is that empty land

by justsleepwalkin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Can be read as gen, Coda, Episode s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Gen, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Sad Ending, Spoilers, Spoilers for Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsleepwalkin/pseuds/justsleepwalkin
Summary: A momentary lapse of judgment.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	and all I see is that empty land

**Author's Note:**

> I'd prefer to watch the episode again because I lost all the details in my head but here's just a cold first reaction.
> 
> In case you missed the tag I would like to reiterate: Sad Ending.

> And all I see is that empty land  
>  And the long-gone street full of long-gone plans  
>  But I turn my head up and I watch the changing sky  
>  And I leave the ground then and I finally understand why  
>  I couldn't see it  
>  That the street was not a street  
>  It's just a circle meant to keep you where you are  
>  [♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyBcYovD0b8) More Clay Than Stone (Still on Our Way) by Radical Face

-

_“Are they ever going to stop calling you?”_ Adam asks, watching Michael across the way.

“Unlikely,” Michael mutters, head in his hands as he tries to block out the growing insistence of the Winchesters' prayers. “They just want power. They just want to use us.” He tightens his hands before he jerks his head up, eyes finding Adam's, something like despair in his gaze. “They'll use us, and then discard you, again.”

Adam can feel the simmering anger underlying those words, the buzz of Michael's grace in the room. The lights of the church hall flicker with the sheer force of Michael's emotions and it's strange to Adam that he ever thought of him as devoid of any. Michael hides it all under the surface, in little compartmentalized boxes, never allowing anyone to _know_ he's more than what they see.

Except Adam. Adam can see it spread around the room like a galaxy map, stars that he could reach out and touch and feel the whole overwhelming breadth of _Michael_. 

Too much of that is for Adam. The bursts of anger he feels isn't for every human God kicks into dust, every bit of betrayal as God digs into his Creation—what he told his sons to love—it's for Adam. That Adam's life was so short. That Adam was left by the Winchesters. That Adam has to live hidden away because he's _shackled_ and bound to Michael even though Adam keeps telling him it _isn't like that_. He wants to be here, he's not leaving Michael to deal with this alone. 

Adam would probably even be safe. God wouldn't understand that if Adam was walking around without Michael that he could be _used_ against Michael. 

Adam thinks God doesn't understand love, and isn't that the most hilarious thing he thinks he's ever heard in his life? 

The entry doors open and the congregation starts to enter. Michael looks up and stands quickly as though he doesn't have the right to _be_ anywhere that is worship under his own name. He shifts down the pews, backing away, and Adam doesn't bother hiding his grin—knows Michael can feel it hum through their shared bones, just as he feels the answering flare of annoyance, like the flick of a cat's tail. It only makes Adam grin harder, and Michael turns to him to say something, but Adam's expression has warped into horror and fear and then a cold shock tangles their vessel. 

Michael looks back to the congregation but already knows what he'll see as the dust clouds take over the congregation one at a time, swiveling spirals in the air before fading into nothingness. 

“Even here?” Michael hisses, wondering where the pettiness of his Father will end.

The coldness in them becomes frigid. 

_“Michael?”_ Adam's voice is small, his thoughts are small, his existence is small and Michael risks his presence being known as he envelopes their vessel in a desperate need to blanket and _protect_ it because no, _NO_ , not this one, Adam is with _him_ he should be safe, he should be _exempt_ , and if Michael knew this could happen he would have been _doing something sooner_. 

“You're fine,” Michael says and he's clinging to Adam and clinging to his soul and maybe if he fights it maybe he can change this, change everything. “You're fine,” he commands, ignoring the shake of Adam's head. 

_“Sorry,”_ Adam whispers.

“Don't apologize,” Michael berates, “it's not your fault, I should have, I should have...”

_“Not your fault either. I—”_

* * *

The church is empty and Michael is alone and Michael is cold. He's blown out the power grid in the surrounding areas, the whine of his grace still in the air, but he doesn't think it's enough that his Father will find him.

Michael is alone and the church is dark and Michael boxes up all his emotions and shoves them deeper than ever before because if he lets his anger escape him his Father _will know_ and he doesn't have time to grieve. He's never _had_ to grieve before and he thinks he's mocked humanity for it and now Adam is gone and _he doesn't have time and—he doesn't have time—he—_

He closes it all up inside of him. 

He has work to do.

* * *

A momentary lapse of judgment.

_“It would mean that I doubt him! The good son, the favorite, doubts his Father!”_

A momentary lapse of judgment.

_“You still care about that? After he left you in the Cage?”_

A momentary lapse of judgment.

 _A momentary lapse of judgment_.

A momentary lapse of judgment is siding with his Father again, but if he got in his Father's good grace again then maybe he could convince him to bring Adam back and how could he be this stupid to think that his Father would allow him this? He should have stayed with the Winchesters. He should have tried whatever they were doing, they—

_“Sam and Dean try to be on the right side of things.”_

Adam.

Adam, he's sorry.

* * *

Adam is alive and Michael is gone and Adam is alone.

He stares out at the congregation filing in around him, chatting like nothing happened, only commenting on the strangeness of the power outage and the books strewn about every surface. Adam's eyes skim over them and he knows, he _knows_ it was Michael.

He breathes and he shakes and he wraps his arms around him and backs up until he hits a wall and someone asks if he's okay and Adam's not and he doesn't know the state of the world and he's _alone_ and what is he supposed to do?

They were supposed to do this together.

-

> I'm back in my spot  
>  The one where I can't be found  
>  Wrapped in stories  
>  The ones where we were good  
>  And our dreams were more than ways to pass the time

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself sad ;)
> 
> And then I was like "but what if I made it worse" and proceeded to make myself _more_ sad.


End file.
